


The Glue

by B_Radley



Series: Genesis and Coda [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Comrades in Arms, Healing, Love, Multi, Survival, Teaching, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 23:51:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9934331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: A Dragon teaches a wounded fixer what they are truly fighting for.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/gifts).
  * Inspired by [One Sword at Least](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7596205) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley). 



> From a prompt by Merfilly.
> 
> Takes place about a month after _One Sword at Least._

Draq' Bel Iblis turns from the contemplation of the green forest outside the groundside Cantonment. He smiles as he hears the measured step.

His smile does not fade as he sees the tall, much thinner young woman limping towards him. His heart sinks as he takes in the cane that she leans on. It had been nearly a month since she had been released from the medcenter. Dr. Hegridarha had kept him apprised of her progress.

 _She was supposed to still be in the goddamned hoverchair._ The man known as the Dragon, indeed, a man known for making potentates throughout the galaxy tremble, takes in the lines of pain around her mouth. The dark circles under her brown eyes. The hooded look in those eyes.

All from a woman who was barely twenty years old. He stills his growing anger. _None of these other idiots who work for Bail and I would stay in a hoverchair when they were told to. Why should their Fixer be any different?_

He sweeps her in his embrace. She is only a few centimeters below him in height, nearer any others in his circle with the possible exception of Fulcrum and her montrals. For a moment, she is not the strong, resilient fixer and representative of Bail Organa and Alderaan. She is the youngest daughter of a dear friend. A friend who took his own daughter in, when she needed a safe haven.

She clings to him longer than he would expect. For the millionth time, he curses the fate that put her in the path of that damned Nikto projectile that nearly ended her. That caused her so much pain.

That caused her friends and family so much pain. 

Including the man for whom the bullet was meant for. Her boss, Bail Organa.

"So glad to see you, No-no. This is a surprise. What brings you here, my girl?" Draq' says. 

"Work, Dragon. I am looking for a wayward operative."

His expression is guarded. "You tried her comm?" She pulls a small device from her pocket. "First thing. It was left in Bail's office."

"Seems to be a bit of that going around," he says with a smirk. He opens his desk drawer and pulls another, nearly identical device from it. 

Nola Vorserrie looks down. "They deserve rest, Draq," she says, her dark eyes tracking up to his piercing ones. "They both paid a heavy price."

His eyes flash. "So did someone else, my dear. If the fact that you lost part of a lung doesn't remind you."

She shakes her head. "I am just a functionary, Procurator. A cog. They are the ones who will make the difference."

"Nola, I thought that Ahsoka and Covenant could beat anybody for self-effacing and self-sacrificing bullshit." Nola's face grows thunderous at his calm tone. He holds his hand up. "Don't, Representative. You need to be told that you are wrong."

She opens her mouth; starts to speak. A look at his face closes it. "Do you think any of us could do anything that we do without you?" he asks, his voice steel. "Do you honestly think that Ahsoka and Covenant, excuse me, _Fulcrum_ and _Tempest,_ risked everything just for the galaxy?"

She is silent. He softens. "We are like soldiers in a battle zone. Those _brothers_ who Ahsoka and Bryne held in such high regard, at least before they turned on the Jedi, for example. The Empire, and the Republic before them may tell the universe that they do it for king and flag or some rah-rah poodoo, but a soldier knows differently. They know that they do it for the soldier standing next to them. Their brothers and sisters."

He takes her into his arms. "Bryne and Ahsoka sacrificed what they did - their blood, the very essence of what they are, in Covenant's case, for each other and for you. They did it not because they could save you. That was Baldrick's and Heg's job. They did it because you would be out doing it. For them. For the values that they hold dear. Just as you do, No-no."

"But I don't have their skills. Their powers, Draq.' I can't do what they do." a plaintive voice whispers.

"More poodoo. I have seen you fight, either as a scared teenager being held prisoner by a Separatist piece of poodoo, or holding your own with the Type- _Aura_ personalities that are Bail Organa, me, and the others. You keep us honest and from getting too full of ourselves."

The Dragon of Corellia kisses the young woman on the forehead. "By the way, before you get to feeling too sorry for yourself, not many people would've survived this." He moves her suit jacket aside and touches the large scar under her right shoulder.

"You are the glue that holds this little comedy-troupe together." he finishes.

He pull his handkerchief off and holds it up to her nose. She blows. She reaches up and kisses his cheek, suddenly ten years old again. Nola breaks away and straightens her jacket. He looks at her, full of pride, but formal. "You can try Ahsoka's droid. I am pretty sure they are on Shili, but they might've moved a bit. It is a good bet that you might want to not have the video- or holo-function on, or you will see more than you bargained for with those two together after thinking the other was dead for nearly five years."

"Don't worry. Seen it all before, Dragon," she snarks, living up to Covenant's nickname for her. _Last Word._

"If you do find them, tell Covenant I have a job for him, based on that conversation we had." His mouth quirks up. "Tell him to see if he can turn Kolan, since they have some sort of history together."

"Maybe this time, he will be sober enough to remember what it was that he did with him," Nola says.

"I really don't want to know."

~+~+~+~+~+

Ahsoka Tano pulls her worn leather jacket over her new top. She sighs as she thinks of the last month. Of the emotions and the reconnections. The joy and pain. She hears her hunter speak in her head, in a warm Corellian drawl. _Couldn't last forever, Runt. Besides, we were about two days from killing one another. Right after kriffing each other's brains out._

Arseven beeps. Ahsoka smiles as she senses another walking up to her. She moves slowly, but Ahsoka would know the presence in any thousand people. Even without Force-sense.

She turns. Nola Vorserrie stands there; leaning on her cane, but standing tall and strong, her eyes clear.

Ahsoka walks towards her. "So, Tano," her fixer says. "You're walking kind of crooked. Would a certain Corellian be responsible for that? Or did you run afoul of another of your big kitty-cats again?"

Ahsoka doesn't respond the way that she wants to. By pulling the Naboo into a hug and holding her against the darkness. Instead, she says, "What? Jealous, Princess? It hasn't even been a full year yet since our last annual wrestling match."

Their shared laughter and snark rises across the plains.

 _Time to rejoin the fight, No-no,_ the warrior thinks.


End file.
